Improvise
Improvisation as a strategy for quality time, with ourselves
We're all living our lives. In these lives, what is our perceived sense of satisfaction? Ease? Presence? Purpose? Does what we practice translate into our lived experience, with all its unexpected complexity?
Life's internal and external fluctuations may all wreak a havoc on our nerves. We weather a new year dawning, actual storms, life storms. We endure age-related changes, seasonal progressions, acute and chronic pain and illness. We make mistakes, are faced with new information, health situations, relationship and employment status alterations, fluctuant states of mind, emotional triggers, un-welcomed surprises.
Person-specific, intentional, daily habits repeated over time support the subtle art of improvising when we are faced with unwanted and/or unforeseen changes. Intentionally modulating our own selves, day after day after week after month after season after year after phase after decade may yield innovation in our experience outside of practice. When we Yoga properly, we are improvising every moment of practice. We embrace our daily fluctuations, the stiff neck, the backache, the preoccupied mind, the tired feeling, the anticipatory distraction.
The closer we abide to our center, the less likely these changes are to ruffle our feathers when they strikes. Instead, it indicates a need for improvisation. Yes, it will appear unwelcomed, as change is a documented source of suffering, according to Patanjali. Yet, no, not every sudden shift needs to yank us into our emotionally-motivated, maladaptive ways of enduring life. It needn’t thwart our intentions to thrive despite our circumstances, for too long.
The tax bill. I know it’s on its annual way. But, arriving the day before Christmas, when the well is usually the driest? Grinchlike. Instead of prolonged brooding and immediately getting out the calculator and counting the money and checking the bank account, I went inside, made a cup of tea, paused, breathed and decided it was time to slightly raise our prices. I improvised.
My precious Mom is seemingly suddenly enduring a major illness now. Fall and winter have arrived with an onslaught of nerves, fear, stress and sadness. A most unmerry season yielded temporarily to a very different holiday in our family, yet one where we all improvised for the sake of sharing love, and delicious food, because that is how Italians role. I paused the past and future and truly reveled in the blessings of the moment.
Finally a snowstorm. And a free hour. I drove to the state park, ready to snowshoe away some of my troubles in pristine winter wonderland, only to remember I had dumped the snowshoes in the garage while hiding a gift for my son in the car trunk. With an eyeroll and a brief let down, I improvised. I didn’t stay mad at me, nor judge myself, given pretty high levels of stress lately. Glad I left the snowshoe hiking poles in the car, as well as the warm and dry gear, I forgave myself and made the very best of a beautiful hike.
We adjust to accommodate our evolving becomings, and it becomes a skillset; not only then, but through the rising and falling action of our life, as well. Satisfaction in life and quality of practice share a common link: an undercurrent of deep, reflective, appropriately designed and repeated practices. I know Yoga is working for me when I can improvise.